In my dream, I am standing in a small country store. It has a few groceries, notions, over-the-counter medications, and the like. I want to buy a ballpoint pen. That's all I need, but I need one pretty badly.
I don't see any for sale on any of the shelves. The store proprietor lady looks worried and apologetic. She seems to know that it's perfectly reasonable to expect to find a pen in a store like hers. And she knows she doesn't have one.
I think about asking to borrow a personal pen from her, but am reluctant to do so. In part because I want a pen that I can take out of the store to use later and elsewhere and in part because I feel it will be embarrassing to her for me to ask.
I notice there is a considerable section of stuff for sale that is Penn State University memorabilia: hats, banners, plates, and so forth. And for a moment I'm enthusiastic about this, since certainly such a display will have a PSU ballpoint pen. But as I look through the display, there are no pens to be had.
I feel bad for the lady. And I'm sorry I'm making her feel bad. There are other people in the room, but no one offers me a pen.
I recall that I had the same predicament recently, but managed to find a pen. So I re-double my search efforts buoyed by this recollection. Still no luck.
By now, I think it's absolutely vital that I find a pen.
I notice a remarkable "toy" on one of the top shelves. It sits still, but launches an endless stream of luminous disks in a straight line moving away from the toy itself. A 1950's version of flying saucers. As the disks move away, they grow fainter until they disappear completely. This disappearing act takes about 4 or 5 feet to complete the vanishing act. I place my hand in the path of the disks and intercept a couple of them. It doesn't hurt my hand, but I look down into my hand to see fragments of the disks.
The "toy" continues to launch the disks.
No comments:
Post a Comment